


The Knight and The Honeybee

by Thunderdaughter



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: #parental death, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderdaughter/pseuds/Thunderdaughter
Summary: When the Duvos Empire attacks Lucien City, Alice and Jack are orphaned in the fight and nearly taken back to the Duvos Empire to be sold into slavery - but a brave Lucien Civil Corpsman rescues them, and instantly becomes the knight in shining armor of fourteen-year-old Alice's dreams. He tells them about his hometown, the lovely and peaceful little town of Portia, and after a number of trials and difficulties, Alice and Jack make their way to a new home there - to find their hero arrived home a wounded veteran, still trying to serve as best he can. Alice, now an adult, gets to know her Ideal Knight as a real human man, still brave and honorable and kind, but also lonely, disillusioned, and worried about his purpose in the world. And Remington finds that Alice has grown into a woman of quiet strength and determination, with a devotion to making the world around her brighter and more beautiful that he can't help but admire, given all the ugliness he's seen.
Relationships: Alice/Remington, possible Female Builder/Sam later on
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

The Civil Corps in Lucien were not to be trusted. Not unless you could bribe them. They were the last line of defense against Duvos, and thus to be honored and respected. But they were also battle-roughened and underpaid, and liable to take what they felt they deserved, by force if necessary, from the local citizenry, and thus also to be avoided and dodged whenever possible. Alice had known that from infancy. Only on the day the war came to her doorstep did she find out there was another possibility. 

There had been rumors for weeks, and her parents had not succeeded in keeping either fourteen-year-old Alice or her six-year-old brother Jack from hearing them. The Duvosian army was about to break through Lucien's defenses, and not even the valiant fighting men on the front lines had been able to stop them. Any minute now, the city was going to be overrun. Alice knew her parents were planning to escape, heard them talking at night about what was most important to pack, what they could carry, where they might stay. 

“We should tell the children,” her mother said. “Give them at least a little warning. Alice is sensible, she'll cope.” 

From her bedroom, Alice felt herself warmed by the praise. _Sensible. That's what I am. I can keep my head and help us get through this._

“No. It'll be easier for them if it happens all at once, if we get it over with quickly without giving them time to remember what they'll miss. Alice might be old enough, but Jack's still small, and he doesn't understand yet.” 

Alice looked over to where her little brother lay, nothing disturbing his slumber, not even bad dreams. His face, relaxed and innocent in sleep, was propped on one arm, the other dangling off his cot. _Don't worry. I won't let anything hurt you, baby brother. I'll keep you safe. Whatever happens._

It was only the next morning when all hell broke loose. She and Jack had been out in the yard, taking down the apricots and apples that had been drying on racks in the sun, when the earth shook and the walls surrounding the great city, undermined by Duvosian explosives, crumbled to the ground. Their mother came running from the house, their father right behind her, each of them clutching a knapsack – no, Pa had two. 

“Put all the apples you can in this one, and put it on,” he said to her, brisk and calm. “We need to move. The army will be through any second, and we have to run.” 

She nodded, her mouth dry, and gathered up the last mound of apple rings in her arms, pouring them into the flour sack she carried and stuffing it into the knapsack as firmly as she could, willing it to fit. It did, just barely. She put on the knapsack, which was far heavier than she was used to, but she would not let her parents, or Jack, see her flinch. Her mother took her arm, her father scooping Jack onto his shoulders, and they ran. 

Alice couldn't tell where they were going. Her father led them down alleyway after alleyway, around corners and through narrow passages, until she was completely lost, in an area of the city she had never seen before. It seemed like everyone had the same idea – people poured from their houses, crowding and pushing in every direction, and it was all Alice could do to hang on to her mother's hand and keep running. But she smelled smoke behind her, and heard screams that ripped through her like knives, and she kept going, running not towards anything but away, away from the screaming, away from the fire, away from the army, away away away...until there was nowhere to run.

Her father had chosen to take them away from the crowds through a narrow, dark alley, and it was the last mistake he ever made. From the darkness stepped three menacing figures – Duvosian soldiers, Alice thought, her mind suddenly frozen over with terror. She turned, only to see a few more blocking their escape route behind. A rough voice ordered from the shadows, “Kill the old folks, they ain't worth much, but take the kids alive. Kids always sell better. More trainable-like.” 

Her father let Jack slip from his shoulders, placing the children between himself and his wife. Both parents drew knives, but they looked pitifully small against the Duvosian soldiers' swords. Nor did they do them any good. Alice covered Jack's eyes, shielding him as best she could against her body, but for the rest of her life, the image of her mother's head bouncing against the cobblestones, the sound of her father's scream, abruptly cut short, and the sudden rain of blood that spattered her hair and clothes, face and hands, would haunt her worst nightmares. 

Nothing of the next few moments registered on her consciousness. Her fingers had to be pried loose from Jack's shoulders, and he broke his terrified silence in a wail as he was torn from her and thrown over a soldier's horse. The next minute she followed, and felt rough hands tie her, wrists and ankles, to Jack and to the horse, holding both children upright but with no hope of movement. The largest of the Duvosians mounted up behind them, and spurred the horse, his comrades following. 

Alice kept her eyes tightly closed, the unfamiliar movement of the horse beneath her combined with the visions repeating themselves over and over in her head and the smell of her parents' blood, making her sick. She concentrated everything she had on not throwing up, not letting go of Jack, letting everything else retreat to the back of her mind. _Got to stay alive. Got to keep Jack alive. Just one more minute one more one more..._

A sudden sound from the soldier behind her made her open her eyes, as he collapsed and fell backwards. The horse startled, and it was all that she could do to hold on for a moment, ropes or no, but when he settled, she looked down, and wished she hadn't. An arrow sprouted from his throat – _Civil Corps colors_ , she noted absently, wondering if they were going from the frying pan into the fire – and she looked up to find two more arrows striking their targets. Three of their captors were left mounted, however, and they wheeled to challenge the newcomer. 

Apparently out of arrows, he drew his sword and charged. Alice had never seen a swordfight before, but even she could see that he fought like a lion, swift and sure. Three against one, it was, but one by one, the semi-trained thugs fell to his blade as it darted and wove, making gleaming patterns in the moonlight. _A knight. A knight in shining armor._

The last of their captors fell with an unromantic thud, and their rescuer wiped his blade on the sparse grass by the road before sheathing it. He turned to the children, his hands surprisingly gentle as he undid the knots. “You kids all right?” 

Alice nodded, and Jack, looking at her, followed suit, though he was far too pale and far too quiet. “We are now. Thank you.” Surprisingly, her voice was clear and firm, though she was shaking inside. 

He lifted them gently from the horse, one by one, and knelt next to them. Alice was surprised to see he wasn't much older than she was – perhaps eighteen or nineteen. He had the darker skin of a Sandrock native, and lighter hair, with paler streaks – tattoos? scars? birthmarks? she couldn't tell – outlining his cheekbones and down his chin, giving him a fierce, hawkish look. But his eyes were warm, dark golden-amber, kind. “You got parents? Somewhere to go?”

Alice looked at the blood on her shirt, and her voice broke. “Not...not anymore.” The sob escaped her throat before she could stop it, and she felt strong, gentle arms around her, holding her together as more of them tore from her, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

“Hey, hey now, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We'll get you someplace safe, you and your...brother?” She nodded, wiping her eyes. “We'll get you to safety, I promise.” He paused. “What are your names? Mine's Remington. My friends call me Remi.” 

“I'm Alice. This is Jack.” It felt surreal, introducing herself as if she was still herself, still the same person she'd been yesterday. 

“Come with me. I'll find you someplace.”

Remington knew that the Lucien Civil Corps was largely corrupt and incompetent, and he hated it. This wasn't the grand future he'd planned for himself when he'd left quiet Portia behind, looking for glory in the war against Duvos. Certainly not this Earthforsaken rout that could have been prevented if only the General had had the sense to realize that Duvos would bring in miners. _Such a damned waste,_ he thought, his throat closing up as he thought of what he'd seen that day. _Make Portia proud, Mayor Gale said when he saw me off...sorry, Mayor, there's no pride in this, none at all._ He looked at the girl balanced in front of him on the horse, small and slender and fragile, but holding on to her little brother like a lifeline, determined to protect him. _She can't be any older than little Sam back home. Come to think of it, Sam's family are refugees from Lucien, too, aren't they? I wonder if her Ma told her stories of fleeing the wars like this...no wonder she's so damned determined to face down all the bullies in the world, even the ones who are twice her size._ The thought of home, and the younger kids he'd been charged so often to look after, made him heartsick. _Sam, Arlo, Ginger, I'm sorry, I'm not the hero you thought I was...but I'm damned well not going to let little kids be sold into slavery if I can help it._

He knew the city well, and more importantly, knew where the Duvos army was, having faced it down until the lines had broken in a frenzied rout, soldiers fleeing every which way. He had attempted to stand firm, and to rally his neighbors, but there was no point, no discipline left, and finally he had fled himself. _Not proud of that. I should have gone down with the fighting, like so many others. But...then who would get these kids to safety?_ his practical side reminded him. _Maybe there's still a purpose for me after all._

Now, it seemed that everyone was making for the South Gates, away from the rampaging Duvosian soldiers pouring in from the North. He kept his horse steady with a firm hand, but the smell of blood and the sights and sounds of panicked humans was making her uneasy. She had been trained for battle, but had never seen one. Nor had Remington, before this week, and he sympathized. _I knew it was gonna be horrible, but..._ he held back the thought, lest he lose what little breakfast he had eaten that morning. _Too many gone. Too many who ate that breakfast with me now feeding their blood to Mother Earth. Stefan, Janik, Richardis...and those were just the ones I saw. What's the point of spending so much time painstakingly reclaiming the past, fighting off the monsters, rebuilding things after the Cataclysm, if we just keep destroying all our gains over and over every time some damned Emperor gets greedy? That's what I'm supposed to be here for, to protect civilization, to protect people, dammit - and first chance I get, I failed. We all did._ He looked down again at Alice and Jack, so small and yet so determined. _But I won't fail you kids, not this time. I'll get you someplace safe if it kills me._


	2. Chapter 2

Finally, they made it through the gates, but it was a mile or so down the road before he spotted the Alliance flag. _Thank Peach, they got too distracted with looting to pursue. Not that it did us a blessed bit of good, but at least there's a place we can regroup._ He rode for the camp, and breathed out a great sigh of relief when he saw Captain Parker riding up and down, directing the flow of refugees and retreating Corps members with her usual firm hand. She was one of the few Corps leaders he trusted, and he was glad to see her in charge here. 

“Remington!” she called out as he neared. “What's the situation?”

“Not good, Captain. We've got a rout on our hands, and they're rioting through the city.”

She shook her head. “Not good, not good at all. At least that'll keep 'em occupied a bit, maybe get them reckless and drunk. We've got reinforcements on their way from Atara. Too late for today, but if we can regroup before they do, and evacuate as many of the civilians as possible...”

_Reinforcements. Finally, some good news._ “Speaking of which. Found these two about to be taken to the slave markets in Duvos. Can we find 'em a place to go?”

“Parents?”

He shook his head. “Casualties.”

Her eyes softened. “Poor little mites. We've been directing refugees behind the lines, but...they're just kids. Here.” She tossed him a couple of ration bags. “There's a Church of the Light a few miles down the road. They find homes for orphans, don't they?”

“Might be a bit overwhelmed right now.”

“They might be. But it's the best we can hope for right now. I'm sorry, kids. There's not much I can do for you.”

Alice nodded, clearly trying to keep her chin up. Jack just stared at the horse's neck, unwilling or unable to move or talk. 

“Be back by sunrise, Remington. As rested as you can be. We're going to need all the soldiers we can get.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He saluted, and spurred his horse further down the path, following the stream of refugees fleeing south. 

They had ridden out of sight of the camp before Alice spoke up, hesitantly. “Thank you for doing all of this for us. We probably shouldn't be taking you from your duties...”

“Protecting civilians is my duty. I'm not going to leave two little kids to wander alone in this chaos if I can help it.”

“We don't even have anything to give you...”

“It's my job, I tell you.” He kept his voice even, but the anger came through nonetheless. “I don't ever want be the kind of Corps member who has to take bribes to do his job.”

“Pa said the Corps always took bribes.” Jack picked the worst moments to speak up, in Alice's opinion.

“Some do. I won't.” He took a breath, and smiled down at them. “But enough of that. Do you know where you'd like to go, given a chance? Have you ever seen places other than Lucien City?”

“Not really,” Alice bit her lip. “We never traveled much. Ma and Pa were too busy with the shop.”

“Where are you from?” Jack piped up. “You don't sound like you're from Lucien.”

“Good ear, kiddo. I'm not. I'm from Portia.”

“Where's Portia?”

“Far southeast of here, on the Eastern Sea, beyond Sandrock. The only real way to get there is by boat from Barnarock. But it's a lovely place, lots of countryside and forest, a clean fresh river full of tasty fish, even some mountains. Portia Town is pretty small, just a hundred or so people, but it's cozy and warm and everyone knows everyone else. It's spring, now, all the flowers will be blooming, and it's so peaceful and pretty...” He shook his head. “Sorry. I get homesick sometimes, especially in the middle of all of this.”

“It sounds so lovely...I understand why you miss it. I love flowers,” Alice said wistfully. “I wish we could go there someday. It'd be nice to be somewhere where there isn't any danger at all...”

“Well, it is on the Peripheries, and there is a Collapsed Wasteland nearby, with some odd monsters in it. But the Civil Corps there is dedicated and they keep the town pretty safe. “

“Wow, a real wasteland? Have you ever been in it?” Jack perked up, forgetting his troubles for a bit, and Alice's heart filled with gratitude.

He chuckled, a warm rich sound. “Yes, as a matter of fact. See, there were these two younger kids – Sam's about your age, Alice, and Arlo's two years older – and they snuck in once after school, a couple of years ago, on a dare. Sam's not one to turn down a dare, and she got Arlo to go with her by telling him he could either be a chicken or a Flying Pig – he's wanted to try out for them ever since he was old enough to know who they were.”

“What happened to them?” Alice asked.

“Well, they got pinned down behind a rock in the middle of a field full of Slurpees...”

“What's a Slurpee?” Jack interrupted.

“It's a great blue creature, kinda like a big fuzzy lizard with a round clowny face – they're not that dangerous, but they can get you with a stream of nasty freezing liquid...stuff...if you don't know how to predict and dodge it. Anyway, I hadn't wanted to snitch on the kids to Mr. Isaac, our teacher, so I snuck in myself, but I had the good sense to bring a couple of weapons with me. Gave Arlo one of the swords, and Sam a dartgun – she always was better with ranged weapons – and we fought our way out. Didn't even get caught, and I've never told anyone till now. So if you do get to Portia, don't tell Mr. Isaac or Mayor Gale on me, all right?” 

“I won't. On my honor,” Jack said solemnly, and Alice stifled a giggle.

“Sam sounds like she gets in trouble a lot,” she commented, hoping to hear more about a girl her own age, living in a safe and happy place. 

Remington laughed out loud. “That she does, especially the time she beat up the mayor's son. But she got off easy for that one.” 

“How come?”

“She beat him up because he'd been picking on his little sister Ginger, and the mayor dotes on his daughter. Ginger's a sweet girl, but she's kinda fragile – her mother died when she was born, she'd never been strong either, and it seems like Ginger takes after her. But her brother Gust thought of her as the one who killed his Mama, and he was pretty awful to her. Sam kicked his butt into next Tuesday, and he left both of 'em alone after that. Last I heard, he'd taken himself off to Atara to study architecture or something. Sam always did hate a bully. She's got a heart of gold, she really does, and she'll always look out for anyone who needs her help. You ought to look her up, if you do get to Portia. Her family are refugees from Lucien too.”

“Really?” Alice asked. “How did they get there?”

“Her Pa is in the Civil Corps, in the front lines a bit further west of here, and her Ma got tired of always being in the danger zones. So she left before Sam was born, and headed down to the coast with Sam's older sister, Carol. Sam's Pa came to visit sometimes, when he was on leave, and Sam was born a few years later, just before her Ma decided to move into Portia Town. But her Ma got the sweating pox, and she died when Sam was only four, so she was mostly raised by her sister, and Carol wasn't much more than a girl herself. So Sam kinda grew up wild. But like I said, she's got a good heart, and she's done all right. And now Carol's gotten married, and had triplets, and Sam babysits for her pretty regularly, so it all comes full circle.”

Jack looked up at his sister. “Are you gonna raise me, now, Alice?”

“Hopefully she won't have to,” Remington said. “The Church will find you a nice family to take you in.”

“But I'll stay with you, I promise. No matter what, I won't let them split us up.” Alice wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him hard.

“You keep to that. You two stick together and care for each other, and everything will be OK.” Remington hoped the kids couldn't hear the way the words had to fight past the sudden tightness in his throat. He'd never had siblings by blood, but Sam and Arlo were as close as made no difference, and he suddenly missed them both terribly.


	3. Chapter 3

They found the Church before evening, with the Minister and several disciples busily setting out tables and simple meals for fleeing refugees. The Minister was a calm, capable woman, her salt-and-pepper hair neatly braided in tight little braids all over her head, her eyes sharp and friendly, as if she saw straight through people to their worst sins, but loved them anyway. She did not seem fazed by the sudden avalanche of evacuees, but kept her disciples moving with a steady stream of orders, as if directing a dance troupe through a chaotic dress rehearsal. She looked up at Remington and the children with appraising eyes, and nodded.

“Orphans, I suppose?” Her voice was firm, and tired, but not unkind. 

“As of this morning, I'm afraid, ma'am.” Remington dismounted, and carefully helped first Jack down, then Alice. “These are Alice and Jack, and they have no place to go. Could they find refuge with the Church, and perhaps a family to stay with?”

She nodded. “We do not turn away anyone in need if we can help it. Things are...a bit overwhelming at the moment, but there's room enough in the Church for now, if you don't mind sleeping in a blanket on the floor. And then...well, we've missionary groups arriving and departing all the time. One of them will know of a family in need of two such fine children.”

She smiled at them, and reached out her hands. “I am Minister Paulina of the Church of the Light. Welcome, my dears. You may stay as long as you please, and we will find you someplace more permanent as soon as we can. Unless either of you feel a calling to Church service yourselves...”

“I don't know, ma'am. I've never thought about it.” Alice was honest, but took the Minister's hand courteously. Jack, suddenly shy, hid his face, but the Minister seemed not to take offense. 

“An honest answer, good. You can explore that question for yourself later. For now, why don't you find a table and have something to eat? Will you join us as well, sir?”

“Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am, but I must get back before sunrise. Captain's orders. May I...have a moment with the children first, to say goodbye?”

Her eyes softened. “Yes, of course. Children, when you're finished, go find a table and get a meal from one of the Sisters or Brothers. And when you're done, come find me and I'll find you a place to stay for now.” She turned, and began the work of supervising and organizing anew. 

He took the ration packs from the horse, and handed one to each. Then he knelt and held out his hands to both of them. “Take care of yourselves, and each other, you hear me? And if you ever make it to Portia...ask for Sam or Arlo, and tell them Remi sent you. Maybe we'll see each other again some day.” 

Alice's eyes were suddenly full of tears, but she fought them back, lest her hero see her weakness. Jack was less reserved, and flung himself at Remington in a hug, which ended up enfolding Alice, too. “Thank you for saving our lives,” she got out, and felt ridiculous – surely that wasn't enough for such a momentous action.

“I'm just glad to know there was something I could do today that was right, that saved someone. That...means a lot to me.” She was startled to see him blink back tears himself. “Here.” He pulled from his pocket a pair of small dangling amulets, and gave one to each. “These are Peach amulets – they make 'em in Portia. It's traditional to give one to someone when you say goodbye for a long time, for luck. I've got a bunch that people gave me before I left – you two keep these for me, OK? Maybe they'll bring you good luck, too.”

“Thank you,” Alice got out, past the lump in her throat. “I wish I had something to give you in return.”

“You did. You gave me some hope on a dark day.” With that, he hugged them both one more time, mounted his horse, and rode back along the road. 

Alice watched him until she couldn't see him anymore, holding on to the amulet like a lifeline. Finally, Jack tugged at her sleeve. “I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and they turned towards the tables. 

In the next few days, Alice was careful to make herself as useful as possible. Jack, along with some of the smaller refugee children, was being given lessons during the day by a very patient Brother, and she hoped that if she did enough work for both of them, he would be allowed to continue his education. She had already learned to read and write and do basic math, and she knew she wasn't particularly gifted, not enough to be sent to university or trained as a Builder or an Architect or a Researcher. But she thought she could learn to run a shop as her parents had done, and make a living for herself and her brother. And Jack, at least, could stay in school for a while. 

In the meantime, she busied herself helping with all the tasks the Sisters and Brothers deemed appropriate for a girl her age, chopping vegetables, stirring pots, serving meals, sweeping and dusting, and gathering laundry to be taken to the river for washing. Her favorite job, though, was helping Sister Elena and Brother Marcus in the gardens, weeding and watering, picking bugs off the plants (later to be used as bait for fishing, or to feed the ducks – the Church wasted nothing), and even spreading fertilizer (she got used to the smell after a bit). It was lovely to be out in the sunshine amidst fresh growing things, blooming and sweet. And the work, while hard, helped her block out the worst of her memories, and to sleep more soundly at night, with fewer nightmares. 

Jack was not so lucky. They had been given a quiet cell normally used by visiting Sisters or Brothers, sparsely furnished with a chair, a desk, a trunk for their clothes and meager possessions, and two bedrolls which were rolled up and pushed against the wall during the day. Often, Alice woke during the night to find Jack shaking and thrashing, whimpering or crying out in his sleep. All she could do was to hug him close, stroke his hair, and murmur soothing words into his ear – he was impossible to wake in that state, and the best she usually managed was to soothe him into a quieter sleep after a while, when whatever frantic nightmare he was experiencing resolved itself. One particularly bad night, in desperation, she put the Peach amulet Remington had given him into his hand. Immediately his fist closed around it and he took one, two, three deep, rasping breaths and was calm again. From then on, he never slept without it. 

Alice kept hers on a thin string around her neck, next to her heart. She would never have admitted to such a silly and childish fantasy, but sometimes when she was busy with particularly dull and repetitive work like dishwashing, she let her mind drift off, making up stories about brave knights and heroic rescues, pirate raids, daring chases on horseback, and fair maidens in dire circumstances. Her villains were moustache-twirling evil on two legs, her maidens strong-willed and pure of heart, and her knights – always, always, they were kind and humble, but noble and princely in their bearing, fiercely courageous yet the soul of courtesy and gentleness to the maidens they rescued. And always, though she would never have confessed it even under the most sacred seal of privacy, they had eyes the color of dark golden-amber.


	4. Chapter 4

It was about two weeks later when she and Jack were summoned to Minister Paulina's office, which Alice noted was no more than a cell like the one they themselves had been assigned, with a few more pictures on the wall but no more furniture. The Minister got up from her chair and smiled at them.

“We have news from the City. Apparently, thanks to reinforcements from Atara and the rest of the Free Cities, the Civil Corps have managed to retake the town and are currently working on rebuilding. That leaves you children with a choice. You are welcome, as I said, to stay with us as long as you please. But we could also send you back to your home to rebuild, and run your parents' shop – Alice, I know from my Sisters and Brothers that you are a very hard worker, and we are grateful for your efforts here. I could send a Sister or Brother around to check up on you every week or so, make sure you had what you needed, and we could afford to give you a bit of funding to get started on, and some assistance from a few of us who have talent as Builders – call it back pay for all the help you've given us.”

Jack's face paled. “I don't want to go back. They might come back. And Mum and Dad wouldn't be there....” He looked like he wanted to cry. 

Alice, too, shook her head. “I think, ma'am, if it's all the same to you...it's not home anymore. And it's too close to Duvos. I'd like to run a shop, and I think I could support Jack so he could go to school...but not in Lucien City.” _Even if it might mean seeing...no, he's busy, he's not going to bother with two little kids anyway._ She found herself blushing slightly, and hoped the Minister didn't notice. 

“Completely understandable. There is another option as well. One of my missionaries is stationed in a village some distance from Atara City, where there lives a pleasant old couple with a small, but pretty little cottage and farm. They have grown children, but those children have jobs and families of their own in the city, and cannot take care of their old parents as perhaps they ought to. They have enough saved up that they no longer have to do the hard plowing and planting work, and they've sold their large animals, but there are still enough farm tasks left that they could use a pair of young, strong children to assist them – things like gardening, feeding and managing the poultry, collecting firewood, drawing water, that sort of thing. Our Sister runs a very fine school in the village, and you would both be welcome to attend when you had time.”

Alice made up her mind then and there that Jack would always have time for school, even if she needed to do enough chores for both of them. _I have been, after all. I can keep going on._ She looked at Jack, who looked dubious at the mention of school. “If there's a school, there are other kids for Jack to play with, right?”

“Of course, my dear. I don't think either of you will have any trouble making friends.” Jack brightened noticeably at the idea.

“And it's far away from Duvos?”

“Much farther than here, and no reason the Empire is going to bother with a small farming village. Especially not after our brave Civil Corps has sent them back home with their tails between their legs.” 

“I'll bet Remington killed a LOT of them.” Jack's voice was fiercely gleeful, in support of his idol.

“It grieves Mother Earth when Her children kill each other, even for righteous reasons,” the Minister chided. “But I have no doubt that young Remington did his duty with honor.”

_Of course he did,_ she thought indignantly, but then had a more chilling thought. _I hope he survived._ She reassured herself with the memory of the skill with which he had taken down their kidnappers. _No Duvosian thug would be a match for him. Of course he's all right._

“I think that's where Jack and I should go, then, if it's all right with you.”

“What do you say, Jack?” The Minister cocked her head at him.

“I'll go where my sister goes. This sounds all right, anyway.” 

“Very well, then. Pack your things, and we will send you to Bellflower Village in the morning. Brothers Alan and Peter, and Sisters Marcia and Amara, will travel with you - they are headed to Atara City, to trade for some goods we need here and bring letters back and forth between the Churches. Bellflower is on their way, so it will be easy enough for them to escort you.”

“Thank you, Minister. You've been very kind to us.” 

“Finding good homes for children is one of my more pleasant duties, my dear. And you have been a great help here. I'm sure you will be good helpers to George and Evelyn as well, will you not?”

Both nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Very well, then. Go and get some dinner, and then some sleep.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, the Sisters and Brothers all found some excuse to stop by to say farewell, and to give the children little gifts – bookmarks with devotional messages on them from Brother Petraeus, carved wooden pens from Sister Charlotta, crystal amulets carved in the image of Mother Earth from Brother Alfred, and so on. From the Minister herself, they each received a little book of poetry and hymns, bound in a soft llama-hide cover. Sister Elena gave Alice the best of all, though – a small packet of rainbow flower seeds and a guide to building her own flower beds, “once you have a garden of your own.” Brother Marcus added a small trowel with a carved handle, and his own personal recipe for the best fertilizer. Alice hugged them all, her eyes full of all the tears she hadn't shed since the day her parents died, and felt suddenly uncertain about her decision to leave. _But after all, if I do feel a call to the religious life, I can always come back when Jack and I are grown. For now, I've got to take care of Jack..._

They were mounted, finally, Alice with Sister Amara and Jack with Brother Peter, and they set off. To Alice's relief, she found the gentle old horses that the Church folk rode were quite calm and easy to ride, and she was able to focus on the beauty of the countryside around her. It was late spring, bright and sunny, but there was enough of a cool breeze to keep it from being oppressively hot. Neither Alice nor Jack were used to riding long distances, though, and by the time they stopped for the night, both were quite sore. Sister Amara had a salve that helped, but they were very grateful to be given a hot bath that evening.

The journey took five days, with the party taking their nightly meal and rest in churches along the way, trading news and supplies as needed. The Sisters and Brothers had made this trip many times before, and appeared to have friends in every church they stopped at. Alice was simply relieved to be allowed to tumble out of the saddle every evening, eat a hasty supper, and sleep. She kept her complaints to herself, though, not wanting to burden their escorts, and got through it as best she could. Jack, too, stayed quiet, though she could see the strain on his face, much paler than it used to be. Thankfully, he was physically exhausted enough to sleep without nightmares for a change. 

Both children felt a surge of relief at seeing the pretty little cottages, each with a small garden and a bit of farmed land attached, that marked the edges of Bellflower Village. Chickens looked up and clucked nervously at the horses as they passed, and the occasional cow regarded them with a bland absence of curiosity before returning to grazing. 

They stopped in front of a neat white cottage with blue shutters, and the loveliest garden Alice had ever seen. Flowers trailed over trellises, draped luxuriously from hanging pots, and made bright layered patterns of color on the ground. There was a vegetable garden, too, with plants neatly arranged in carefully-labeled rows, and a pen with a dozen cheerfully-gossiping chickens in it, but for a few moments, all Alice could see was flowers. She gasped in delight. “It's beautiful!” 

“I thought you'd like it, after all your work with Sister Elena and Brother Marcus,” Sister Amara chuckled. “This is your new home, children. And this,” she smiled at the old lady who opened the door and came down the path to greet them, “is Mrs. Evelyn.”

“Oh, call me Evvie, dears, do. And you must be Alice, and you Jack?”

“Yes, ma'am. You have a beautiful garden,” Alice blurted out, and the old woman beamed. 

“It is lovely, isn't it? But my old back can't take much of the weeding anymore, and I'd be very grateful if you'd help me with it.”

“I'd love to!” said Alice, and meant it. 

“Good, then. Come inside and I'll show you where you can put your things.” She paused and glanced at the single small bag each carried. “Surely you have more than that?”

“No, ma'am. We...had to leave Lucien in a hurry.” Alice looked down, biting her lip. 

“Oh, dear. Well, we have futons for you at least, and in the morning we can see about getting you a change of clothes. For now, come inside, come inside. George!” she called into the house as she bustled through the door. “George! The children are here!”

“Well, whaddaya want me to do about it?” The voice was irritable, but held a note of humor to it. Alice spotted the owner of it as she followed Evelyn into a bright and well-lit kitchen, where he was sitting in a wheeled chair, with a blanket over his lap, reading a pamphlet and drinking a cup of what smelled like holly tea. He grimaced as he took a sip. “This tea is bitter as Peach's balls. Are you sure it's good for me?” 

“George! Watch your language in front of children!” Evelyn seemed shocked, but Alice could see her lips quirk upwards, trying not to laugh.

“Ah, it goes right over their heads.” George turned and smiled wryly at them. “Or if it don't, they're old enough to understand it.”

Jack asked, innocently, “How do you know what Peach's balls taste like anyway?” 

Alice, horrified, tried to shush him, but George burst out into a roar of delighted laughter. “I like this one, Evvy.” He turned to study Alice, and nodded once, sharply. “And the girl looks sensible. All right, you can keep 'em.”


	6. Interlude

As the days passed, Alice found herself reasonably content. She had about the same amount of chores she'd always had – sweeping, tidying, dusting, helping with the cooking, feeding the chickens, and best of all, helping in the garden. There was no shop to help manage, but in the evenings, Evelyn taught her how to make small handicrafts – in particular, the heart knots that sold so well among young men and women in love – and to arrange flowers pleasingly in bouquets and garlands, choosing the best colors and shapes for harmonious results. Alice, having a good eye for color and deft hands, became quite skilled at it, and on Sundays, she and Evelyn took the results, along with any spare eggs the chickens gave them, to the local market for sale. Evelyn always gave her a few coins to buy things for herself or Jack with afterwards, saying that she'd never made so many profits before Alice came, and it was only fair that she should get to enjoy some of them too. 

Both Evelyn and George insisted firmly that both children needed to go to school. “You can't count on getting married young, girl, even with that pretty face,” George said. “Too many boys dead fighting Duvos. You need an education to run yourself a business, then you can do what you please.”

She didn't mind school – the Sister was kind, and the lessons were interesting enough and not too difficult. The other children mostly avoided her and Jack, even at playtime, and some of the boldest called them “dirty refugees” and “slum rats,” but she told herself she didn't mind. Jack sometimes snuck off after school, returning with a black eye or a bruised cheek, and she knew he got into fights, but he was never willing to talk about it. There were never any serious injuries, and when she tried to talk to the Sister about it, she was told only, “Boys will be boys – I'm sure they'll be great friends once they've grown out of childish things.” 

And so days flowed into weeks, and weeks into months, and Alice would always remember those years as a sunny period of relative safety - before the pox hit. 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Remington winced as he pulled himself up from the camp bed where he'd been resting. Captain Parker noted the expression and shook her head sadly. “I'm sorry, Remington. I tried to argue for you, but...well, you're always going to have a limp, and the doctor doesn't think you're ever going to be at full fighting fitness again. Take the retirement and the pension – might be only half-pay, but it'll keep you for a while, and there are plenty of jobs in Lucien City you can do even with a bum knee. You've got a whole life ahead of you, anyway. Shame to waste it in this Peachforsaken Corps.”

“Got no choice, have I?” he said, only somewhat bitterly. “The Corps won't keep me even if I wanted to stay. Don't know what else I'm good at, either.”

“You'll figure it out. I've got faith in you. Anyway, that's not the only reason I came by – this came for you with the morning mail. Think about what I've said – I've got connections in the town, I can help you find something if you want.”

“Thanks, Cap. I'll let you know – but I do appreciate it.” He gave her a halfhearted smile.

She patted him on the shoulder, briskly but not without affection, and left. 

He looked down at the letter, recognizing the hasty scrawl immediately, and smiled a bit more genuinely. He really was fond of young Arlo. 

_Dear Remi,  
So, I hear you've been injured and kicked out of the Lucien Corps on half-pay. I'd say I'm awfully sorry to hear that – and I am sorry you've been hurt – but, well, right now I'm kind of selfishly glad you're free to come home, that is, if you want to.  
You remember that little tunnel worm incident I mentioned in my last letter? Well, I think it officially finally drove old Captain Fitz to retirement, and he's gone off to the sunny shores of Barnarock to recuperate. And in his place...well, Mayor Gale went and appointed me Captain of the Portia Civil Corps. No, he hadn't been drinking – the Mayor's sober as a judge, you know he is. Call it temporary insanity.  
It's not much of a Corps to be Captain of right at the moment, mind you, just me and Sam right now – you remember Sam, right? Terror of the town bullies, Ginger's idol, Mr. Isaac's despair? She went off to learn swordsmanship from some guy who claims to be a retired knight, but she came home a couple of months ago to join the Corps (and convinced said former knight to come back with her and, of all things, open a restaurant in Portia...that's our Sam, could talk a desert hopper out of its skin). She's learned a lot – she fought me to a standstill in her trial, and I came out of it with some bruises, I can tell you.  
But anyway, it's just the two of us trying to keep Portia secure, and you know we're on the Peripheries, there's always the danger that something will come out of there and wipe us out for good. And while I won't admit this to anyone else, I really am operating off the seat of my pants here and I could use some help from someone older, wiser, and more experienced – like you.  
Lucien might not need you, but we do. You've always been the only one who could keep Sam and I out of trouble for any length of time, and now the safety of Portia is at stake. Come home, please?  
Sincerely,  
Arlo_

For the first time since his injury, Remington grinned broadly. _Guess I've still got a place in the world after all._


	7. Chapter 7

Alice blinked back her tears and pasted a smile on her face. Evelyn didn't need to know, after she'd been so kind to them. She was failing quickly anyway, it wouldn't be long until she joined George in the Light. No sense giving her any more grief and sorrow than she absolutely needed. 

“Evvy? Are you awake? I've brought you some broth and tea.”

“Thank you, dearie, but it won't do me any good, I'm afraid. This old body's finally failing me, and the pox is just the last straw, after all. No, no, don't cry, lovie, don't cry, there's no sense in tears now. I'm not afraid of the Light. It's never hurt me and it never will.”

“Drink a bit anyway, for me, please?” She put the tray on the side table and held up a spoon imploringly. 

“If you like.” Evelyn carefully leaned forward, her frail old body looking tiny in the cocoon of warm blankets Alice had covered her with. She sipped gently from the spoon, and smiled shakily but reassuringly at Alice. “George passed this morning, didn't he? I felt it. Don't cry, don't cry! I'll go with him soon enough, there's no cause for grief. But listen, child, there's something important I have to tell you. There's laws in Atara that mean I can't leave you the house and land as I would like, but I've written down that you and Jack are to have the old mule and the new set of clothing I've made for each of you. My son and daughter will get the farm, and what they'll do with it I've no idea, since neither of them have any head for farming, but they'll leave you those things, I'm sure they will. I've sewn some coins into the clothes – not a lot, but all I could put away, and it should be enough to get you someplace safe. Don't tell anyone. Atara's government don't like refugees like you and Jack much, I'm afraid, and they won't let you inherit much in the way of permanent property from a citizen, but clothes and a mule I think they'll let you keep. Do you know someplace you can go?”

Alice kissed her forehead gently. “Don't worry about us. We'll go...we'll go to Portia.” It was the first name that came to her mind, along with the memory of a warm smile and a pair of honey-colored eyes. 

“Portia....that's the newest of the Free Cities, isn't it? They'd probably welcome a couple of new healthy young immigrants. And there's lots of opportunity in little places. You do that, sweetheart. You go and make that little town brighter and prettier. And maybe you can finally write down that novel you've been telling in your head so long...”

“I'll dedicate it to you and George. Promise.” Her voice only shook a little as she rearranged the covers around the old woman's slender shoulders. 

Evelyn mustered the strength to reach out and pat the young woman's hand gently. “You and your brother have been a blessing to George and I in our last years, and I hope Portia appreciates you. May the Light be with you, wherever you go.” Her eyes closed, and she breathed out once, gently, and then no more. 

The next few days passed in a whirl. Marcus and Melanie, Evelyn and George's son and daughter, were cool but polite to the refugee children, and raised no objection to their keeping the mule or the suits of clothes Evelyn had made for them. Their main concern seemed to be getting the inconvenient youngsters out of the way so that they could sell the farm at a tidy profit, have their parents respectably buried, and go back to their lives in the city. They were clearly sorry for their parents' death, but their relationship hadn't been close for years, for reasons that Alice didn't think were any of her business – but still, it didn't leave her thinking particularly well of them. 

She and Jack went to the funeral, staying quietly in the back, and kept their tears to themselves. And then, they packed up what little they had, a small enough burden for the sturdy mule even with Jack riding, and went off down the road out of town, with no clear idea of where they were going beyond a name.


End file.
